“Coming!”
“Hurry!”
Briggs could hurry. Griffin could run. But I wouldn’t make it. He might carry me down this mountain and drive into town, but Rain had won.
There were words to say. Apologies to make. Promises to ask him to make. But in the end, I had no time.
“I love you.”
“No, Winn. Don’t say it.” He shook me as he stood. His boots began pounding down the trail. “Stay awake.”
“Say it back. Just once so I can hear it.”
“No.”
“Griffin.” My voice cracked. “Please.”
He didn’t slow. “I love you. Fuck, but I love you.”
“Thank you.”
Then I let out one more breath.
And the stars vanished.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Griffin
“Wake up, baby.” My lips brushed against her knuckles. “Why isn’t she waking up?”
“She lost a lot of blood,” Talia said.
“I can’t lose her.” I clutched Winn’s hand. “I can’t . . .”
The lump in my throat that had been there for three days felt like a noose around my neck.
“You should get some sleep.” Talia put her hand on my shoulder. “Get out of this chair and walk around at least.”
I shook my head. “I’m not leaving her.”
“Griff—”
“I’m not leaving.”
Talia sighed. “Can I bring you anything?”
“Coffee.”
“Okay.” She squeezed my shoulder, then slipped out of the room.
She wasn’t the only person who’d tried convincing me to go home. My parents. My siblings. Covie. The nurses. The doctors. Everyone was trying to get me to disconnect.
To let go of her hand.
Because there was a real chance that she wasn’t going to wake up. She hadn’t once since I’d carried her off Indigo Ridge.
“Come on, Winn. Wake up,” I whispered against her skin. It felt too cold, and she looked too pale in the bed. The gash on her head had been stitched, the blood cleaned from her face and hair. But her lips were this ugly gray shade. Her eyelids blue and her cheeks hollow.
“We have so much ahead of us. But I need you to wake up.”
In the days that I’d been here, I’d begged her countless times. Because maybe if she could just hear my voice . . .
“Find your way back to me. Please. You can’t leave me yet.”
There was so much I had to tell her. So much good she’d done that she deserved to celebrate.
“Winslow.” I closed my eyes. “I love you. We’ve got a lifetime together. But you have to wake up, baby. You have to wake up. Find your way back to me.”
She didn’t move.
My sister brought me coffee all morning.
Covie came in and sat quietly by my side through the afternoon.
The nurse brought me a fresh blanket after midnight.
Winn didn’t move.
Until the sun began to rise on the horizon.
Those beautiful blue eyes opened. Finally.
And she found her way back.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Winslow
“Ready?” Griff asked as we stood beside his truck.
I clasped my hand with his. “Ready.”
We walked, side by side, to Melina Green’s front door. My pace was slow and awkward. Everything over the past two weeks had been slow and awkward. But it gave me time to study her yard as we walked.
Her flower beds were overflowing with purple coneflower blooms. The lawn had been recently mowed and the scent of grass filled my nose. Robins chirped as they landed in the large oak tree that shaded part of her house. A fresh morning.
A new day.
Before Griff could knock, the door opened and Melina stepped outside. Her face was alight with gratitude.
“Hi.” I smiled.
“Hi.” Her eyes turned glassy and then she was there, hugging me too tight.
It hurt. My shoulder had been dislocated and only yesterday I’d stopped wearing the sling. But I didn’t dare flinch. I simply squeezed Griffin’s hand because he’d been helping me bear the pain for the past two weeks.
Melina held me for a long moment, until Griffin must have realized I was hurting because he put his hand on her shoulder.
“Should we go inside?”
“Of course.” She let me go, wiping the tears away, and waved us inside.
Sunlight streamed through the bay window in her living room. Griffin and I sat on the smooth leather couch, his arm going behind my shoulders the moment I was down so I could lean into his side.
My body was healing but it wasn’t happening as fast as I’d like. He’d tried to convince me to put this visit off for another week and spend yet another day resting at home. But it was time to get back to life.
Living was precious. Every moment. If the night at Indigo Ridge had taught me anything, it was to make the most of my time on this earth.
For a first major excursion out of the house, visiting Melina was exactly the way to start.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, taking the chair across from the couch. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, thanks. And I’m okay. This guy has been taking good care of me.”
Griffin leaned over and kissed my hair. “When she listens. She’s not the best patient.”
I elbowed him in the ribs. The fast movement caused a stitch of pain and I grunted.
“See what I mean?” he teased.
“Thank you for coming over.” Melina looked to the fireplace mantel, crowded with framed photos of her daughter. “And for everything you’ve done for Lily.”
“I was just doing my job.”
“No.” She gave me a sad smile. “You did so much more.”
In the past two weeks, numerous suicide cases had been reopened and their files flooded with new information. Frank had been arrested the night Rain had tried to kill me, and his confession had shocked the entire community.
Four of the seven suicides in the past decade hadn’t been suicides. He’d been having an affair with each of those young women and each had been murdered by his wife.
Frank had mastered secrets and deception, somehow convincing the women to keep their trysts a secret. He was a charismatic man. Good-looking. I didn’t fault those girls for falling for his act. I only wished one of them had left a bread crumb. Or that the former chief had pushed harder to find one.
Now that we knew where to look, evidence was pouring in.
Frank would meet each of the women at hotels in neighboring towns. Credit card receipts showed that he’d paid for their nights together. They’d communicated by paper notes, never signed, but his handwriting had been easily matched. Lily Green had kept a few of the notes. Melina had found them when she’d finally worked up the courage to clean her daughter’s room. The notes had been hidden beneath Lily’s mattress.
Maybe if I’d pushed her to look sooner, I would have recognized Frank’s handwriting.
He’d drop those notes to Lily at his trips to the bank. Harmony Hardt had worked at a restaurant in town and he’d admitted to leaving her messages on the backs of his receipts.